


The Ghost In The Mirror

by LivingTheUpgrade



Category: Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:02:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28224309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivingTheUpgrade/pseuds/LivingTheUpgrade
Summary: This story is inspired by the song Ghost In the Mirror by Memphis May Fire.Lydia goes to the Netherworld to find Beetlejuice, who is missing when she gets there she has to avoid trouble and get out as soon as possible.
Relationships: Adam Maitland/Barbara Maitland, Beetlejuice/Lydia Deetz, Charles Deetz/Delia Deetz
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	1. Ghost In The Mirror

I sit on my bed, eleven o' clock at night on a Saturday, finishing an essay for my online English class.  
A knock interrupts my train of thought, I pull an earbud out and call out for whoever is there to come in but, after a few moments no one does, I put my earbud back in and go back to editing the final draft of my essay.  
Twenty minutes pass and I'm satisfied with how it's turned out, I click submit and pull out my earbuds, I put my phone on my nightstand, plugging it in to charge for the night, pulling the earbuds out and putting them in the pocket of my bag before shutting my laptop and putting my notebooks in my bag.  
As I place my bag on the floor next to my bed I hear another set of knocks, sounding as if coming from glass.  
"Beetlejuice, it's eleven o' clock" I say nonchalantly as I look up at the vanity.  
I grab my bag deciding to bring it over to my desk, I stand up and walk over to my desk, putting my laptop on its charger and setting my bag down in the desk chair.  
"Beetlejuice?" I say curiously, his silence concerning me as I sit down on the vanity chair in front of the mirror.  
The mirror blank, all that's there is the reflection of my room and myself, the silence and nothingness that greets me as I gaze into it reminding me of my trip to the Netherworld when I was sixteen.  
"Beetlejuice?" My voice quiet, eyes searching the mirror rapidly for any sign of him, after a couple minutes I start to get impatient.  
"Lawrence Beetlejuice Shoggoth, if you don't show yourself I'm sleeping in the attic and you can keep knocking on the mirror in my empty room" I say, my patience snapping as I stand up.  
I grab my phone and charger, pulling my black and white striped blanket with me as I exit my room, shutting the door behind me silently as I quietly make my way not to the attic but to the basement, heading straight for my darkroom.  
Once in the comfort of my darkroom I plug my phone in and lay down on the black Victorian styled couch, cuddling into my blanket and the throw pillows under my head, I lay there, eyes shut for what feels like hours before I slowly but surely fall asleep, nightmares haunting my dreams.


	2. Nightmares That Haunt

I jerk awake, gasping for breath as I sit up on the couch.  
As my heart slows to normal I notice Delia in the doorway with slight surprise and concern on her face as she holds a tray, I brush my bangs down and let out a sigh as I lean against the arm of the couch.  
"How long have you been there?" I bring myself to say.  
"Long enough to know I should be concerned" she says, shutting the door before coming over to the couch, placing the tray onto the side table.  
She sits down on the opposite end of the couch, facing me quietly.  
"Want to talk about it?" She says, I grab the mug of coffee off of the tray and take a sip.  
"Not really, I just don't know what to do Delia" I say, trying to enjoy the hot beverage that usually is the highlight of my mornings but as I finish off the liquid, I find that it tastes like ash, I set the mug down and curl in on myself.  
"Don't know what to do about?" She asks, confusion taking over her features as she shifts slightly.  
"I think Beetlejuice is in trouble" I say softly, pathetically bringing my blanket to my chest as if it will make him appear.  
A moment of silence passes before she can bring herself to speak.  
"W-What makes you say that? It's been three years, he's probably doing fine sweetie" she says, trying to be reassuring but, I know better than that.  
"He knocked on my mirror, usually I respond but I had earbuds in and it took longer to respond this time and by the time I was there, he wasn't. Not even saying his name worked, this has never happened, he always treats me saying his name like getting a glass of water after wandering the desert for a week" I say, not caring about judgement or consequences I'm likely going to get for my words.  
"Wait, what? Hold on, you have been seeing him for three years?" She says, trying to comprehend the situation "Lydia, how did this all start?"


	3. Just Admit It

I take a deep breath as I prepare to explain that I'm the one who went looking for him, not the other way around.  
"I didn't know if it would work, I mean I hoped it would but, I didn't know for sure. It was three months after the wedding, dad was reverting back to how he was before Beetlejuice and I needed someone who understood me so, I said his name and it became normal to call on him while I was eating lunch or dinner while doing schoolwork. He, uh is actually really good at history, he would help me with schoolwork and I would help him with controlling his emotions and teaching him patience" she looks at me, intrigued but wondering what the point of my story is.  
"Point is, he hasn't done anything wrong and I need to find him before it's too late if something has happened" I say, my eyes focused on the stripes of the blanket.  
"Then find him" she says, my eyes shoot up to her face, searching for a hint of insincerity but not finding any.  
A knock on the door causes us to look over at the door, the Maitland's enter the room and we look between one another as they try to assess the situation.  
"Lydia, did you sleep down here?" Barbara says, her tone concerned as they focus on me.  
"Yeah, I uh, I did. I couldn't sleep, so I thought a change in setting would work" I say, putting on a fake smile.  
They nod understandingly, I stand up and drape my blanket over my shoulders, grabbing my phone and putting it on the tray.  
"We were going to ask if you would like to play Scrabble with us" Adam says excitedly.  
"Oh, I wish I could, but I have to study and finish my essay for English" I say, lying.  
I grab the tray and we finish the conversation as we go upstairs, I force myself to eat breakfast before going up to my bedroom.  
Once in my room, I grab my bag and pull my school things out of it, I make a list of things I'll need and assess how easy it will be to obtain the items without causing suspicion.


	4. Wait For Me, I’m Coming

I collect the items on my list, placing each item in my bag to take up the least amount of space.  
As I reach the bottom of the list I realize to get the Handbook For The Recently Deceased I'm going to have to trick the Maitland's into opening the book for me but, for my plan to get the book to work, it will have to be nighttime.  
I sit at my desk with my laptop open to my rough draft of the essay I submitted last night, the notebook open to the assignments outline as I instead plot my way to the Netherworld.  
When someone knocks I quickly transition between plotting my escape and schoolwork, as ten o' clock approaches I close my laptop and go to give my dad and Delia a hug and say love you, as I exit the room I see Delia smile and wink at me.  
I go to the attic, putting on my best sleepy act as I climb the steps sluggishly, I enter the room to see Barbara is sleeping on the bed in the corner and Adam is sitting on the sofa, writing something in a notepad.  
Ghosts don't need to sleep but I've learned the Maitland's like to sleep to stay on a schedule.  
"Hey Lydia, going to bed?" He says quietly, as if to not disturb Barbara.  
"Yeah, I just was wondering if you could read to me? I haven't been sleeping too well recently" I say weakly, following it up with a small yawn.  
"Of course" he says, standing up and looking around for a book "the only book I can find up here is the Handbook for the Recently Deceased" he says, holding up the book.  
"That's okay, you can bore me to sleep with it, that book was pretty boring" I say sitting on the sofa, Adam sits next to me and begins to read softly, he yawns more and more as I pretend to slowly fall asleep and before I can manage to fake being asleep, he's out cold.  
I gently take the book from him, putting a finger in between the pages to mark his spot so I can easily keep it open as I quietly make my way down to my room.  
I get dressed in the same outfit I wore when I met Beetlejuice, doing my lipstick and fixing my hair briefly before grabbing my bag and the open book, I say his name three times.  
Nothing happens, he doesn't respond nor does he appear.  
"Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice" I say again but, no dice.  
I open the book and look for demon summoning it states:  
"If you're summoning a demon and saying their name three times does not work, try their living name (or birth name, if dead born) three times."  
I shut my eyes and say his full name three times in a row, I feel a slight breeze, I open my eyes and find myself in an alleyway, people rushing about.  
I see a tailors shop across the street with a layered red dress in the window and am intrigued by it, I go into the shop and notice I'm the only customer, a skeleton stands behind the counter in the corner of the shop, I walk up to him and he moves his jaw as if to smile at me.


	5. The Netherworld

"Bonjour! My name is Jacques LaLean, you are new to the Netherworld?" He says in a French accent.  
"Yeah, I am. I saw the dress in the window and it reminded me of.." I trail off briefly, not exactly knowing what Beetlejuice is to me "my husband"  
"Ah, yes, ton amour..." he says, longingly as he leans against the counter "Ginger is busy but, I can help you, if you would like madame"  
"I um, my husband was always talking about wanting friends, perhaps you know him? He died a while ago" I say, hoping he will know Beetlejuice due to the fact that it's hard not to know Beetlejuice.  
"What is his name?" Jacques says, cheerfully.  
I take a breath as I briefly prepare myself for the response.  
"Lawrence, he never liked his name though, he went by his middle name, Betelgeuse" I say, his jaw literally drops at my statement, he scrambles to retrieve it.  
"Beetlejuice?!" He exclaims in shock, saying the name as if there's an a in beetle, I nod silently as I wait for him to settle down from his shock a bit.  
"Do you..know him?" I ask, hesitantly, worried about what I should expect.  
"Yes, you are his..wife? I did not think he was being serious about that, he was too calm to have been telling the truth" he says.  
I see a spider about the size of a softball walking across the floor toward us from the back room.  
"Jacques, why didn't you tell me there was a customer?" The spider says, she climbs onto the counter and looks between us.  
"You were busy. Ginger, this is Beetlejuice's.. wife" he says, a moment of awkward silence passes before I decide to speak up.  
"Lydia, my name is Lydia and I'm looking for him, it's urgent"   
Another awkward silence passes over us.  
"Well, he still has a house on the hill by the cemetery. He used to have a roadhouse but, when he left he said he wouldn't need it anymore, so we own it now" Ginger says.  
"Thank you! I really appreciate it!" I give them a bright smile before rushing out of the store, following street signs to the cemetery, I see a row of houses, varying in color as I get closer to the cemetery.  
Among the houses I notice one that stands out, an old black Victorian style house that looks like it hasn't been lived in for centuries at the far edge of the cemetery, it's trim is black and white striped.  
I walk up the path and climb the steps, knocking on the door as I reach it, I get no response.  
The doorknob twists easily and the door opens with a slight creak.  
I enter the house, closing the door behind me to avoid bringing in the cold.  
Hundreds of candles light the house as I slowly make my way through the house.


	6. What the hell

Distorted, choppy voices surround me as I walk through a dimly lit dining room, my footsteps quiet against the old wooden floorboards, I reach the staircase as I complete my search of the first floor.  
“I’m sorry!” I exclaim as I run into a woman who has appeared out of thin air “I’m looking for Beetlejuice” I say, collecting myself.  
The woman in front of me is short and of average build, her long black hair appearing to have dulled from stress and her skin extremely pale.  
“Oh, he should be around here somewhere. That boy is always running around, would you like some tea dear?” She says, her voice soft and kind.  
Before I can answer she leads me into the kitchen, I follow behind her feeling confused and vaguely overwhelmed.  
“Can you not hear that?” I ask, the voices maintaining their frequency, if not increasing their volume.  
“Hear what dear?” She asks, setting the kettle on the flame lit burner as I stand on the opposite side of the counter facing her.  
“I, um didn’t catch your name” I say, she turns to face me, our eyes never meeting as she seemingly looks through me.  
“And I yours” she responds, I open my mouth to reply but the kettle’s whistling drowns everything out.  
She grabs the kettle and pours the boiling water into a silver teapot, placing it on a tray with sugar and cream before taking them into the vacant dining room.  
We sit across from each other at the small table, tea sitting in front of us as it cools.  
“How do you know Beetlejuice?” She says casually trying to make conversation.  
“Uh, well.. I guess I could say Beetlejuice is my husband” I say, knowing our relationship is far from being that simple, but how do you explain all that he did to his mom when you know she hates (hated?) him?  
“That’s great, I never thought that boy would get married. You seem to have such a sensible personality, what drew you to him?” She says, looking at me with curiosity.  
I pause, thinking of what to say, her question repeating itself over and over in my head.  
“He made me feel like I belonged, he was always on my side even when my family wasn’t and I felt I finally had control over my life. He helped me with so many things, but our marriage wasn’t really... traditional in any sense” I say, trying to avoid the topic of how and why.  
“Well, my husband should be home by five thirty, he would love to hear about it if you would like to stay for dinner” she says with a small smile as she stands up, going to take the tray into the kitchen,  
“Yeah, of course. Where’s Beetlejuice’s room?” I ask, she turns to me in the doorway.  
“Third floor, last room on the left” she says before turning back and exiting the room.  
I push in my chair as I stand up, I make my way up to the third floor, the thin layer of settled dust on the stairs causing me to sneeze a couple times.  
I reach the last door on the left and stand in the eerie silence that now engulfs me, I take a deep breath before opening it.


	7. It’s you

As I scan my surroundings I see his suspenders on the bed, I inspect the bedroom closer I realize it's almost exactly the inverse of mine.  
My eyes shoot up from the floor as I spot a shadowy figure gazing at me from the far corner of the room, I look away briefly by the time I look back to the corner, nothing is there.  
I walk over to the desk and see an open sketchbook, an intricate portrait of me in ink on the page.  
The other items littered across the desk are a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, a pen, a dead flower, his tie, a silver safety pin hair clip that I realize is mine, and some photos and drawings that I gave to him.  
His suit jacket draped over the wooden chair at the desk I take it off and slip it on.  
I shake my head, letting out a sigh as I sit back in his desk chair.  
"Beetlejuice, Where did you go?" I mutter to myself.  
“Lydia?” I hear his voice saying my name, I look up and take in the sight of him standing in front of his now closed door.  
“It’s you” I say with a sigh of relief.  
“It’s me” he says, I stand and walk to where he lingers, my arms going around him but not touching anything.  
“Why can’t I touch you?” I say, dejected as I lower my arms, I turn and take a step to go back to his desk chair.  
“Lydia” he says, his cold hand lightly wrapping around my wrist.  
I turn my head to look at him, our eyes meeting, his usually glowing gold eyes replaced with a saddened dullness and a shine from his eyes watering as if going to cry any second.  
“What is happening Beetlejuice?” I ask, unable to assuage the growing concern filling me as I gaze into his haunted eyes.  
“You’re real” he breathes out, arms wrapped around me, his chin resting on my shoulder and his face buried in my hair.  
I raise my arms to go around him, one resting on his back, the other on his neck.  
“Of course I’m real, I’m wearing too many clothes to be from your imagination” I say, to any other person you’d think I was teasing but with Beetlejuice it was probably true.  
“My bet is still black lace” he mumbles as he pulls away enough to look me over.  
“Can you stop making bets with yourself over what I wear under my clothes and stop looking at me like that, it feels weird” I say, letting go of him “Is this some kind of twisted dream? I thought after having tea with your mom I’d wake up”.  
“You saw her too?” He says, eyes going wide.  
“Yeah, it’s hard to miss her. She’s very outgoing” I say, plopping myself down on his bed, staring at the ceiling.  
“Are you wearing my jacket?” He says, as if just now noticing it.  
He hovers about half a foot over me, till our eyes meet.  
“Yeah, I am. What’s it to you?” I say, challenging him.  
He smiles as he laughs briefly, clearly thinking about what he’s going to do next.  
“Why didn't you come back? I called for you, multiple times and you gave me nothing” I say, shoving his chest.  
He falls the few inches to the bed, his legs on either side of mine and his hands breaking his fall on either side of my head, keeping him from falling directly onto me.  
“I shouldn’t have done that” I say, not really regretting it but feeling like I should say it.  
“I can’t, I tried time and time again. I couldn’t, I don’t know what’s happening but, it’s not just forcing me to stay, it’s also brought my mom and dad back.” He says, remaining in the position he landed in.  
“Beej, can you get off me?” I ask, looking up at him.  
“Oh! Yeah” he says, laying next to me.  
We stare at the ceiling silently for a few moments, I turn my head to face him.  
“Is there a more manual way of getting to my world?” I say, he opens his mouth to say something, but pauses when he turns his head to look at me.  
“What?” I say, giving him a confused look.  
“Yeah but, you’re not going to like it.” He says, offering no hint as to what it could be, I briefly think about the possibilities.  
“What do you mean?” I say, wanting him to just spit it out.  
“Well, you know that myth about Orpheus and Eurydice?” I nod in response “well, we are kinda going to have to literally walk out of here”  
I know that myth very well and it did not turn out well, for anyone.  
“Let’s go then” I say, sitting up.  
“That’s it? You’re ready to walk out of hell, with a demon?” He says, questioning me as he slowly sits up.  
“Yeah, you’re my best friend and I have family that is gonna be pissed when they find out I went back to hell for you, so I would prefer it if it wasn’t all for nothing.” I say, standing up and grabbing his hands and pulling him slightly toward me.  
“Okay, then let’s do it” he says, going to his desk and snapping everything off of it before standing next to me.  
“Beetlejuice!” I hear Juno call to him, he goes rigid next to me.  
“Yes mom!” He calls back, I hold his hand and interlock our fingers, trying to get him to relax.  
“Your father is home!” He takes a step toward the door.  
“Let’s go, they’re not real” he says as we leave his room.  
When we get into the living room he greets them and explains how he wants to show me around since I just got here.  
“That’s a great idea son, it’s lovely meeting you-” his dad says.  
“Lydia,” I say, he smiles at me and tips his hat, the room fills with what would be an awkward and ominous silence if I wasn’t hearing the voices again.  
“Lovely meeting you Lydia” he says, Beetlejuice leads me out of the room and to the door where we exit the house quickly, feeling eyes trailing us.


End file.
